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The space of time remains unknown
The means of life cannot be seen
Our fates are on strange winds blown
Some on money and fame are keen
Some make promises, others hear
Some love words or crosses or song
Some smile, frown, scowl or leer
Promises made, and broken, all day long
Everyday, fear and hatred
Some find love, some live lust
But as the wise have said
In the end, all turn into dust
The dead know all, they are grey and sombre
But still we live and hate, curse with laughter

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